Chapter 135
That loathsome face was still vividly etched into his mind—pointing a finger at her and her mother as though he were the most innocent, most wronged person in the world.
Traitors? Traitors. What a ridiculous thing to say.
Would that arrogant Crown Prince, raised in a sheltered world and unwilling to seek the truth, still be able to look at her with such contempt if he knew the whole truth?
Or had he known all along and simply chosen to pretend otherwise? Just like a slick hypocrite.
“What a coward.”
The man wearing that cruel smile reached out a hand.
Now that he’d invited her on a date, it was time to plan a proper one. Just as he’d declared, Vigros intended to court his adorably charming Saint with all his heart.
Whether it remained a fake romance or became a real one didn’t matter. He intended to make Iora feel what it was like to be loved—earnestly, wholeheartedly.
So that she could truly smile.
So that she would never again weep with the heartbreaking sorrow she had in that dream.
“Now then, what does our Saint like?”
A flower basket rolled to a stop beside Vigros as he hummed to himself.
Then crimson blood trickled across the floor.
His subordinate merely turned his head with an indifferent expression. It was hardly an unusual sight. Rather than reacting to it, he calmly went to dispose of the corpse of the man he had seen earlier.
The Crown Prince would receive a blood-soaked gift today.
And he would begin to wonder.
Whether the person his fiancée had been seeing was, perhaps, this man.
* * *
Though she hated to admit it, she found herself looking forward to it.
Even knowing that Vigros’s actions were dictated by nothing more than their contract, he was so unfailingly kind that meeting him felt less like honoring an agreement and more like going to see a dear friend.
Clearing her throat, Iora pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart beat so loudly, so insistently, like someone on the verge of meeting a long-awaited promise.
Every time her gaze landed on the purple cosmos that had gradually been arranged throughout her room, a smile escaped her.
Had he really chosen those flowers himself? What had he been thinking when he picked them? What expression had he worn? Well… he probably sent one of his servants to buy them, didn’t he?
Still, perhaps she’d ask him herself when they met.
“Lady Iora, whatever has you so deep in thought?”
Shana was busily scribbling something away before leaning forward and whispering a question.
When Iora looked up, she found herself meeting several pairs of eyes. Confusion flickered across her own face, while the maids all wore guilty expressions.
What?
Iora had no idea.
She didn’t realize that the subtle changes in the young Lady of House Ribandt had gradually begun to pique everyone’s curiosity. She watched the maids jump in surprise and hurriedly scatter after being caught staring, then turned back to Shana with a gentle smile.
“I was just thinking about what to wear today. As it happens, Father, Mother, and that wret… my brother aren’t home, are they?”
Everyone had gone to visit Aunt, who had taken ill, leaving the mansion unusually quiet. Naturally, Aunt wanted absolutely nothing to do with a visit from Iora, so she alone had been left behind at the estate.
It was absolute heaven.
Grinning impishly, Iora pulled out a fluttering pink dress. Its petal-like design was charming and distinctive. Paired with a sparkling parasol, it would make quite a lovely combination.
As though she’d read Iora’s thoughts, Shana let out a little giggle and whispered:
“Lady Iora, I think that dress would be perfect today. You… look really happy.”
“Mm? Do I?”
“Yes! And, um… well…” She hesitated. “Do you… have a boyfriend? Besides His Highness the Crown Prince?”
It was such a bold question that even the maids who had been secretly eavesdropping looked even more startled.
She was hopeless.
Seeing those large, clear eyes sparkling with innocent curiosity, Iora couldn’t bring herself to scold her. Instead, she reached out and gently patted the girl’s head as though indulging a younger sister.
Shana beamed, looking utterly delighted. She really did seem so innocent. Come to think of it, what had this girl been so diligently writing every day lately? When Iora cast a curious glance toward the papers, Shana hurriedly hid them behind her back, blushing. The gesture made her look exactly like a sweet, well-behaved child.
“That’s right. His Highness is free to be with Arcanda, so there’s no reason I can’t date whoever I want.”
“Does he… love you, Lady Iora? Is he kind to you?”
The question came with surprising earnestness, Shana’s small hands clenched into determined little fists.
Iora fell silent for a moment.
For the Crown Prince, spending time with another woman was one thing. But for a Saint candidate—and his fiancée, no less—to be seeing another man was, by noble standards, disgracefully improper. The Crown Prince and she would never be judged by the same standard.
Yet there wasn’t a trace of contempt in the maid’s eyes. There was only one question. Are you happy?
‘She really reminds me of Sol.’
Smiling softly, as though sharing a secret with a dear friend, Iora finally answered:
“When I’m with him, I just can’t stop smiling.”
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